


Lie With Me And Just Forget The World: The Piperford Chronicles

by queenofkadara, Schoute



Series: The Piperford Chronicles: Piper Lavellan & Cullen Rutherford [2]
Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Smut, Gift Fic, PIPERFORD FOREVER, Piper and Cullen desperately in love, Smut
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-02-16
Updated: 2019-10-16
Packaged: 2019-10-29 04:04:28
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 9,223
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17800730
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/queenofkadara/pseuds/queenofkadara, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Schoute/pseuds/Schoute
Summary: A series of oneshots about Schoute's 'Rowdy' Piper Lavellan and her dashing Commander Cullen Rutherford!Not in chronological order, unfortunately. I will put relevant timeline stuff in the author's notes.Smut in Chapter 1. I will update this description as more smut is added.





	1. Plaidweave

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Schoute](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Schoute/gifts).

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is inspired by [Schoute's adorable art](http://schoute.tumblr.com/post/182172446784/cullen-inquisitor-im-pleasantly-surprised-this) of Cullen and Pipes wearing plaidweave!! 
> 
> This is my first time writing more than like 2 lines of dialogue for Cullen HAHA so I hope he is not OOC!!

Piper bolted into the rotunda and almost slammed into Solas in her haste. 

He stumbled back in surprise. “Inquisitor,” he exclaimed. “Are you-”

“Sorry Solas, can’t talk, urgent business!” she called, and she ran straight through the rotunda and out the door that led onto the battlements. 

The cool mountain air was a sharp contrast to the castle’s cozy warmth, and Piper smiled as the cold fingers of wind tugged at her hair. She briefly considered slowing down in her race across the battlements - she was the Inquisitor, decorum and decency and all that crap that Vivienne would needle her about - but she couldn’t be bothered. 

She was far too excited to see him. 

She skidded to a stop as she reached the closed door to her favourite place in Skyhold, then quickly ran her fingers through her silvery hair and nodded in satisfaction. _Braid’s not too messy, bangs aren’t too sweaty, we’re good to go,_ she thought.

Piper shuffled her bare feet in excitement - being away from him for two weeks was far too long for her liking - then knocked on the door. 

“Enter,” he barked. 

Piper grinned to herself. But damn, did she ever love that gruff and bossy tone of his. 

She pushed open the door and leaned sinuously against the doorjamb. “Am I interrupting?” she asked.

Cullen looked up from his desk, and Piper grinned at the blush that instantly lit his cheeks. He straightened with a smile, then nodded respectfully. “Inquisitor,” he said. “I’m… it’s very good to see you.” 

“You too, _Commander_ ,” she purred, then forced herself not to laugh as Cullen’s cheeks pinkened even further. She pushed off of the doorjamb and wandered into his office. “You received my report from Dinan Han’in, I trust?” 

“I did,” Cullen replied. He tapped one of the many letters on his desk. “I was just reading it again now. It seems that you had an interesting visit, to say the least.” 

“We did,” Piper confirmed. The elvhen ruins had been… well, rather disturbing in fact, but she had other things on her mind right now. 

She leaned her palms on the desk and tilted her head coyly. “Reading my report again, you say? How many times have you read it already?”

Cullen hesitated, then ducked his head bashfully and scratched the back of his neck. “More times than was strictly necessary,” he admitted. He treated her to that stunning smile that never failed to make her heart flutter. “I am… very pleased that you’re back.” 

“Me too,” Piper said huskily. Gods, she’d missed him far more than a two-week absence warranted, but he was just so… 

_Ugh, he’s so fucking wonderful,_ she thought. It was almost annoying how thoroughly this handsome human had come to occupy every scrap of her attention that wasn’t focused on the Inquisition. Unfortunate that they had an entire world to save, or else she’d have her hands all over him every moment of the damned day. 

But she’d have to restrain herself for now. It was only early afternoon, and Cullen was a busy man; clearly he’d been expecting someone else when she’d knocked, or he wouldn’t have used that officious (but sexy!) tone. So Piper forced herself to stand up straight and take a step away from his desk. 

“I brought you something from the Emerald Graves, actually,” she said brightly, and she reached behind her back and pulled out the garment that she’d tucked into her belt. With much pride, she thrust the garment at Cullen. “Here.”

He took the piece of clothing gingerly and stared at it, and Piper had to bite her lip to stop herself from laughing as he struggled to maintain a polite expression. In her opinion, the cut of the garment wasn’t bad at all - it was a fitted sleeveless vest, and she was certain it was going to look fine as hell on him. 

It was the cloth that was the problem - or, in Piper’s honest opinion, the best part. 

Cullen was clearly struggling for words, and Piper waited in high amusement until he finally spoke. “Thank you, Inquisitor,” he said carefully. “It… it’s… well…”

“It’s plaidweave,” she blurted. “It’s hideous, I know.” In truth, Piper loved the unpopular gold-and-brown pattern, but that was a dirty little secret Cullen didn’t need to know. 

He wilted slightly and smiled at her. “Maker’s breath, I didn’t want to be rude…” 

Piper burst out laughing, then skipped around the desk and pinched his chin playfully. “It’s ugly, but it’s functional,” she explained. “Plaidweave is made with august ram wool, did you know that? It’s very lightweight. Good for wicking away sweat.”

“I see,” Cullen said slowly. 

Piper scoffed and rolled her eyes. “It’s good clothing for training, you handsome _felasil_ ,” she scolded. “You can wear it under your armour when you’re working with the troops. Or, you know, just wear it on its own. Show off that fine body of yours.” Unable to help herself, she sidled closer to him and pressed herself against the fine body in question. 

“Oh, I - that is - thoughtful, thank you,” Cullen stammered. Despite his endearing discomfiture, his gloved hand was sliding over her hip, and Piper inhaled slowly to quell the inconvenient rising of her own lust. It was such a simple touch - just his hand on her hip, a nearly innocuous caress. So why was she getting so riled up? 

She should back away from him. He was at work. Technically _she_ was working still, damn it - she had to meet Leliana in the rookery in about ten minutes. But her errant libido was running away with her. 

She pressed her breasts against his chestplate and lifted her chin. “I have a matching vest under my shirt,” she whispered. “Want to see?”

Cullen’s ears were flaming red. “I - I do, very much,” he muttered. “But I… Inquisitor, I must insist…” 

His voice was a tremulous whisper. His breath was warm against her cheek. _Gods_ , she wanted to feel that hot breath of his on her bare skin, ghosting across her nipples… 

With an enormous force of will, she stepped away from him. _Let no one ever say the Inquisitor had no discipline at all,_ she thought ruefully. A tiny hint of a scrap of discipline it might be, but still it existed. 

She smiled at him. “Should I make an appointment for a private viewing-”

He suddenly shoved away from the desk, and Piper had a split second to gasp in surprise before he was kissing her, his arms around her waist and his lips firm and hot as they slanted across hers, and - _oh fuck,_ now her arms were wrapping around his neck and she was writhing her hips toward his, and - and this, this embrace, the spicy leather scent of him, _this_ was what she’d been missing for the past two weeks - 

She slicked her tongue against his own, and he broke away with a gasp. He cupped her cheek in his palm and panted for breath. “I - forgive me, Piper, that was - I’m sorry, you were leaving -”

“Are you kidding?” she said breathlessly. “Never apologize for that.” She grinned at him, then stroked his neck and forced herself to step away from him. “To be continued,” she said meaningfully. “At your earliest convenience, Commander.” 

He ran a hand through his gorgeous hair. “Y-yes, of course,” he said. “And… thank you. For the gift.”

She stopped at the door and shot him a mischievous smile. “You are very welcome,” she said. “Just remember, it’s highly practical! Try it on sometime.” 

He winced slightly and scratched the back of his neck once more. “I… will consider wearing it the next time I train,” he said. 

Piper chuckled at his reluctance. “That’s all I ask,” she said. She blew him a kiss, then ran off to the rookery. 

The sooner she met with Leliana, the sooner she could finish up her day… and the sooner she could return to the extremely urgent business of stripping her handsome Commander until he was wearing nothing at all. 

**********************

Later that evening, when Skyhold’s shadows had taken over the courtyard, Piper was on her way to visit Krem at the tavern when a surprising and _very_ enticing sight met her eyes. 

She grinned, then raced over to the training ring as quickly as her bare feet would carry her. She skidded to a stop at the edge of the ring and braced her palms on the fence. “You’re wearing it!” she called out.

Cullen threw a practice punch at the Iron Bull’s broad belly, then turned to face her with a rueful smile. “I thought it only polite,” he told her. “I started imagining Mia’s voice in my ear telling me I was being ungrateful.” 

Piper threw her head back and laughed in delight. With his scarred and muscled arms exposed, he looked just as scrumptious in the plaidweave vest as she had hoped. “And?” she asked. “Is it comfortable or what?”

He huffed a little laugh. “It is,” he admitted. “The sweat-wicking quality is especially comfortable.” 

“Hey Cullen,” Bull interjected. “Are you finished here already? You’ve barely even broken a sweat worth mentioning to the Boss.” 

Cullen shot him a shrewd look, then turned back to Piper with a crooked little smile. “Excuse me, Inquisitor,” he said. “It seems that a certain mercenary captain requires a solid lesson in hand-to-hand.”

Bull let out a rolling belly laugh. “Big words from such a small human,” he rumbled. “Come on then. Let’s get some sweat rolling down that pretty face.”

Piper grinned and leaned her elbows on the fence to watch. Cullen and Bull sparred for some time, and although Bull was undeniably better at this kind of scrappy hand-to-hand combat, Cullen managed to land a handful of strikes that made Bull grunt with discomfort. 

Piper bit her lower lip as she watched. Her eyes were unerringly drawn to the shifting of Cullen’s muscles beneath his vest, not to mention the shape of his finely muscled backside in his loose training trousers. His hair was growing damp with sweat, and she could hear the harshness of his breathing as he dodged from Bull’s huge fists…

Harsh breathing, like the way he breathed against her ear when they moved together in his bed. Harsh breathing that drifted across her thighs when he lay her back and spread her wide. Harsh breathing and sweat and that perfect golden hair falling into his perfect brown eyes… 

Piper took a deep breath and tugged idly at her braid. Then Cullen suddenly grabbed Bull around the back of the neck and hauled his head down. 

Piper recoiled in surprise. Suddenly Cullen was behind Bull with his arms wrapped around the qunari’s thick waist, and - 

_CRASH_. Bull hit the ground on his left hip. Cullen’s arms were still around his waist, and the qunari captain was roaring with laughter. 

Cullen released Bull and rose to his feet with a broad grin, and Bull sat up on his elbow. “Well played, Commander, well played! You learned well,” he announced.

Piper closed her mouth and swallowed hard. “That was… wow,” she said lamely. Gods, where were her words? Where was her fucking brain? Her wits seemed to have been washed away by the sudden roar of lust that was blasting through her veins. 

Cullen smiled at her. “We’ve been practicing that for the past few days,” he explained. “It took some time, but I believe I’ve got it down.” 

“Hah!” Bull exclaimed. “I will see you coming now. We’ll see how you fare tomorrow.” He pushed himself to his feet, then offered Piper a brief salute. “See you, Boss,” he said, and he strolled off toward the tavern.

Cullen chuckled, then smoothed his fingers through his messy hair as he approached the edge of the ring. “Thank you for the vest. I mean it genuinely this time,” he said. “I didn’t realize how much of a boon it would be to _not_ be fully drenched in sweat.” 

Piper stared at him. He looked so pleased with himself, so innocently pleased with his combat prowess, and the stupid plaidweave outlined every line of his abs so damned well. For fuck’s sake, if she didn’t get him naked in the space of minutes… 

She grabbed the collar of his vest, and his eyes widened as she pushed herself onto her tiptoes to lean closer to him. “You know what else is good for wicking away sweat?” she breathed. “My tongue.” 

His cheeks instantly flushed red, and his eyes darted to her mouth. Very deliberately, she traced her upper lip with the tip of her tongue. 

“Do you need a demonstration?” she asked.

“M-Maker’s breath,” he muttered. “I - yes, that would be… yes-”

“Come on,” she said, and she released his vest and made a beeline for the nearest stairs up to the battlements. 

An instant later, Cullen was walking beside her. They didn’t speak as they walked, and their quick pace was nevertheless decorous - Vivienne would be so proud of her! - but Piper was exquisitely aware of the warmth of his skin as his bare arm brushed against her own. 

Then they were on the battlements. They made their way toward Cullen’s office in silence, but his little finger was sliding against the edge of her hand as they walked, and the mere gentle stroke of his finger on her skin was raising the pulse between her legs. 

Gods, she was so unbelievably turned on. It was madness. How the simple touch of his finger on the blade of her hand could be such a damned trigger for her lust, she had no idea. But by the time Cullen unlocked and pushed open his office door, Piper was ready to scream. 

He gallantly stepped aside to let her through, then closed the door behind him and turned to face her. “Would you-”

She shoved him back against the door and pulled his face down to hers. “Take that stupid plaidweave off,” she demanded, and she kissed him hard. 

He grunted in surprise, then dragged her against his body and pushed his knee between her thighs, and Piper whimpered into his mouth as she pressed down against his leg. His hands were firm on her back, and she ground herself against his thigh as he gathered the fabric of her loose linen shirt in his hands and pulled it from her trousers. 

He rolled her shirt up, and Piper reluctantly allowed him to break their kiss so he could pull her shirt off. Then she moaned as he palmed her breast. 

His thumb swept across her nipple. “You really are wearing a matching vest,” he marvelled. He slid his fingers beneath the hem of her cropped vest and played his fingertips over her nipple, and she inhaled sharply at his exquisite touch. “You thought I was lying?” she panted. “Shame on you, Commander. I never lie about cute clothes.” 

He chuckled. “Forgive my disbelief,” he said. “But I’d much rather see you without the vest.” 

He rolled her nipple between his fingers, and Piper gasped again, then grabbed his wrist. “You first,” she begged. “Take yours off now.” She plucked at his blighted plaidweave garment. She was desperate to look at him, to trace the planes of his muscles with her greedy eyes, and - damn it, she needed his vest off _now_.

He slipped his hand out of her top, then pulled his own vest over his head and dropped it on the floor, and Piper wasted no time: she ran her tongue hungrily across his pec.

Cullen groaned as she swirled the tip of her tongue around his nipple. She slowly lowered herself to her knees, trailing her tongue and lips down along his salted skin and listening with growing satisfaction to his rapid breaths.

He slid his fingers into her hair, cradling her head as she pulled eagerly at the laces of his trousers, and as soon as the laces were loose, she hauled his trousers down to his knees. 

“Piper,” he gasped. “Do you want - should we go upstairs -”

“No,” she chirped. “Right here is perfect.” She spread her palms on his thighs - such lovely hard muscly thighs - then licked his left thigh, taking his delicious salt on her tongue and ever-so-gently grazing his flesh with her teeth. Her hand travelled across his right thigh until her knuckles were stroking his balls, and she heard the soft thump of him resting his head back against the door. 

“M-Maker’s breath,” he panted.

She lifted her mouth from his skin and grinned cheekily up at him. “Wrong,” she purred. “The only breath that will touch your skin is mine.” Without further warning, she took his steely cock in her mouth. 

He cried out his pleasure, and Piper relished the sound. She loved the needy strain in his voice, this voice that was usually so stern and no-nonsense but that softened and warmed when he was alone with her, and which carried such a beautiful thread of helpless desire when their clothing and their duties fell away. 

She slid her lips along the length of his cock, taking him as deep as she could until her nose nearly brushed his abdomen. Cullen moaned and slowly tilted his hips toward her mouth, and Piper shifted her angle slightly so she could take him deeper. 

Yes, deeper was how she wanted him. The further his cock slid into her throat, the more she got to savour his scent - that primal, earthy, masculine scent that was only heightened by the fact that he’d been working out with Bull.

She hummed appreciatively around his cock, then released him and grinned up at him. “You smell amazing,” she said.

Cullen’s rosy cheeks flushed even further. “Piper, please, that’s - I am sorry, the training and all-”

He made as though to cover his cock with his hand, and Piper pushed his hand away. “Hands off, serah,” she said playfully. She laced her fingers with his, then took him into her mouth once more. 

Cullen squeezed her fingers, and Piper happily closed her eyes as his length slid along her palate to the softness of her throat. His pleasured voice, his strong fingers in her hair, the salty taste and scent of him: it was a perfect combination of sensation melded together in this man who was steadily held in her thrall, and Piper savoured it like the favoured fantasy that it was. 

He gasped as he hit his peak, and his fingers tightened against her own as he shuddered and gave his weight to the door, and Piper sat up on her heels and greedily swallowed every drop of his release as it graced her throat. A long, breathless moment later, Cullen stroked her chin. “Stand up. Please,” he panted. 

She swiftly did as she was told, and an instant later she was in Cullen’s arms. He walked around the desk and carefully placed her in his chair, then knelt at her feet and slid his big callused palm up along her ribs.

She grabbed the armrests and arched toward him as his thumb slipped beneath the edge of her top. “Cullen,” she whined. The edge of his thumb was teasing the underside of her breast, stroking her tender flesh and avoiding her nipple entirely, and gods, she wanted _more._

“Yes, Inquisitor?” he said. 

Piper opened her eyes. His tone was mild and his eyes were on her body, but his lips were curled in a mischievous little smile. 

She smiled slowly back at him, then arched her neck as he pushed her vest up and ran his knuckle across her nipple. “You cheeky man,” she gasped. “Are you teasing me?” 

“I’m only giving as good as I’ve gotten from you in the past,” he replied. “Take this vest off, now.”

Piper saucily bit her lip. “Ooh. Giving orders now, are you?” She swiftly peeled her cropped vest off and tossed it on his desk. 

He raised one eyebrow at her and smirked. “I don’t see you taking orders very well,” he drawled, and he slid his palms over her breasts.

She clenched her fingers in the armrests of his chair. “Orders from you? Sexy ones? I could be persuaded - oh gods!” She threw her head back as he slicked his tongue over her nipple. 

He lifted his face and smiled. “An interesting thought, that. Let’s hang onto it for later.” He took her nipple in his mouth, and Piper clasped the back of his neck as he swiftly unbuttoned her trousers. Then he was pulling her trousers down and pushing her thighs apart, and she was panting with excitement and lifting her hips toward him, and his mouth - that gorgeous scarred mouth of his was grazing the skin beneath her navel, and his heated breath was drifting between her legs and sending shivers down her spine - 

“Fuck,” she gasped. His tongue was between her legs, smoothing along the length of her cleft and dancing across the bud of her clit, and she squeezed her eyes shut and sank into the blissful feel of it. 

_This is the best fucking feeling in the world,_ she thought deliriously. There was just something about the way Cullen treated her with his tongue, something in the way his lips moved between her legs as though he was kissing her mouth… It was so damned _good_ that it made her lightheaded. Maybe it was the time they’d spent apart, or maybe she was just that damned besotted with him, but her climax was rising with an almost indecent speed, building and roiling under his lovely mouth, and before she had time to do much more than gasp her pleasure and grasp his golden hair, her peak was rushing over her and rendering her breathless. 

She arched her back and pressed her hips toward his mouth. “Cullen, _please!_ ” she sobbed. Then she cried out more sharply still as he slid one finger inside of her. 

He gently kissed her clit and curled his finger, and Piper panted sharply until he lifted his mouth away. “Let’s go upstairs,” he rasped. He rose to his feet and extended a hand to her, and Piper’s greedy eyes fell on his swiftly rising manhood. 

She allowed him to help her to her feet, and it was a good thing; her thighs were shaky still from her climax. She followed him to the ladder, then tossed him a cheeky grin as she began to climb. “No sex on the Commander’s desk this time?”

He chuckled. “Not today,” he said. “The desk is for… special occasions.”

Piper laughed as she pulled herself through the trapdoor to his bedroom. She planted her hands on her hips as she waited for him to join her. “Special occasions, you say?” she teased. “What do you call this, then?”

He rose to his feet beside her and cradled her cheek. “I misspoke,” he said softly. “Every time is always… what I meant to say…” His cheeks were turning red again, and Piper’s amusement softened at how damned bashful he was. 

She slid her arms around his waist. “It’s all right, Cullen,” she murmured. “I know exactly what you mean.”

He released a soft exhale and smiled at her, and she beamed helplessly back at him. He looked so happy right now - so _relaxed_. He was so worried all the time, worried about the lyrium-corrupted Templars and the Breach and about her, and it was so damned nice to see him looking this much at ease. And to think she had played a part in helping him relax… 

_This_ was the best feeling. Knowing that she’d helped to wipe Cullen’s worries away, even for a little while: this was the best thing about these moments that she spent wrapped in his strong embrace. These moments were too few and far-between for Piper’s liking, painfully separated by her lengthy forays into the field, but when they _were_ together… Gods, when they were together, every second she spent breathing the same air as him was a second well-spent. 

She tightened her arms around his waist and gently kissed his collarbone. He draped his arms around her shoulders and sighed, and Piper relished the languid rise and fall of his ribs against her chest. 

He pressed his lips to her forehead, then her nose as she tilted up her chin, and then his lips found hers in a careful kiss. The urgency of their earlier clinch was all but gone now, softened and smoothed into something far slower but just as sweet, and Piper swayed dreamily into the heat of his body as they kissed. 

His lips pulled gently at hers as his hands pulled gently at her hips, cupping the curves of her bottom as he walked them back toward his bed. He sat on the bed and pulled her down with him, guiding her thighs to straddle his hips, and they gasped in tandem as he pressed himself inside of her in a long, smooth stroke. 

His hands were pulling her closer, firmly guiding her against the steel of his cock, and - and oh, his _hands_ : how she loved his fucking hands. They were rough from training with his sword and shield, and warm against the skin of her hips, and with every rolling thrust, she gave herself over to Cullen a little bit more. His hands were so confident, and his cock was driving so perfectly along her inner walls, and what need did she have for control when his beautiful hands gave such perfect tactile commands to her pliant body?

She clenched her fingers against his biceps, then clasped his neck as she fought for breath. Then one of his hands was cradling her nape. 

“Piper,” he said. “I… I meant to tell you before, I…” He trailed off with a groan as she ground herself against his cock, then he moaned into her mouth when she cut him off with a hard kiss. 

She stroked his tongue with her own, then pulled away and panted against his cheek. “What is it?” she breathed.

“I missed you,” Cullen blurted. “When you are gone, it’s… it’s very hard. It’s - important, of course, nothing is more important than the work you’re doing-” 

She clasped his face in her hands and stared into his eyes. Her heart was already pounding, thrumming with the rhythm of their sex, but hearing him say such words, hearing his confession of the same feelings that were constantly pounding through her blood when they were apart… 

She bit her lip and rested her forehead against his own. “I miss you too,” she whispered. “All the time, Cullen. Every fucking moment that I’m out there. Don’t you forget it.” 

He smiled, and Piper released a breathy laugh, and then his hands were pulling her against his hips again, pulling hard and swift as she grasped his shoulders and twisted her hips toward him. His lips were on her breast, his pleasured breaths pouring across her skin as his teeth pressed against her nipple, and she arched her back and gasped as he drove into her, striking her sensitive flesh in harmony with the melody of his guttural breaths.

He clenched his teeth, his fingers tight against her hips. “P-Piper,” he begged. “I’m - I’m going to-” 

She nodded furiously, unable to speak through the breath that was caught in the cage of her ribs, and when Cullen thrust into her hard, she cried out in release and clutched his shuddering shoulders in her hands. 

Her pulse was thundering in her ears. She pressed her lips to his hair, breathing in his warm and spicy scent as they both fought to catch their breath, their arms sliding more firmly around each other until they were a tightly wound tangle of limbs. 

She kissed his hair, then his temple as he tilted his head, then finally the rounded edge of his ear. “I should bring you ugly gifts more often if this is the attention I get,” she whispered.

The corner of his eye crinkled in a smile, and Piper giggled as he nibbled her throat with his lips. Then he lifted his face and smiled softly at her. “You don’t need ugly gifts to get my attention,” he said.

His gaze drifted to her lips, and she happily lowered her face to meet him in a kiss. A blissful moment later, she pulled away and smirked. “So you admit you think that vest is ugly?”

His ears instantly turned red. “No, no,” he blustered. “I - that’s not what I -”

Piper cackled merrily, then clasped his face and kissed him again until he smiled. He broke away to kiss her cheek, then his lips were at her ear. “You’re a little minx, Piper. Were you aware of that?” He whispered. 

She closed her eyes dreamily at the beloved sound of his voice. “Of course,” she replied. “But I don’t mind hearing you say so, _Commander_.”

His rumbling little chuckle rolled across her ear and straight down to her happily beating heart, and Piper grinned against his temple. She would be heading back out to the Emerald Graves in two days’ time, and already she was loathe to lose the heat of his body against her own. Of all the difficult things about being the Inquisitor, her constant separation from Cullen was the worst. But the lure of his bashful smile would always call her back.

The travelling and the fighting, the quests and the corpses and the rifts in the sky: she would brave it all with a grin on her face and a bow in her hand if it meant coming back to him. 

For another moment with Cullen, she would brave anything.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Elvhen in this chapter, by FenxShiral: felasil = fool, idiot
> 
> For more beautiful art of Piper and Cullen, follow [Schoute on Tumblr!](http://schoute.tumblr.com/)


	2. Appropriate

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This beautiful chapter was written by Schoute and beta'ed by queenofkadara (Pikapeppa)! 
> 
> Some late St. Patty's Day inspo here, with Piper and Sera channelling some Merry and Pippin vibes. 
> 
> Timeline note: this is before Cullen and Pipes actually get together, when he's all CHARMINGLY BASHFUL. xoxo

Cullen was not usually one for social gatherings, especially when there was so much work to be done. But he couldn’t help but let a small smile tug at the corner of his scarred lip. The Inquisitor certainly wasn’t what anyone had expected, and she continued to surprise them all at every turn. 

This evening was no exception.

Everything in Cullen’s upbringing had told him that dancing on tables for any reason was strictly out of the question, and simply ‘not done’. But since when had the Inquisitor let the rules of social norms dictate her behaviour? Cullen was certain he couldn’t recall a single moment. And yet, he made no motion to stop her, choosing instead to watch: she was a flurry of wild silver hair, spinning with Sera arm in arm on the tavern table, and both elves were giggling and belting out words that he was fairly certain weren’t the actual lyrics of Maryden’s song.

“See something you like, Commander?”

Cullen was instantly pulled from his musings, feeling a flush creep up the back of his neck at Dorian’s statement. The damned mage moved like a ghost. 

“I’m certain I have no idea what you’re talking about,” he replied, eying the other man as he took a seat at the table. 

“Really?” Dorian drawled, giving his mustache a twirl and glancing over his shoulder to where The Inquisitor and Sera were still prancing on the table. “From where I was standing, it certainly looked as though you were almost enjoying yourself.”

Cullen didn’t dare look away from Dorian, not even to follow Dorian’s questioning gaze to the Inquisitor. These were the games Dorian played with everyone, trying to trick them into letting something slip, and Cullen would not be fooled by his antics. 

“The Inquisitor is dancing on a table. I can assure you my interest was strictly that of concern for her safety.” 

Dorian hummed and smiled. “In your interest, you seem to have some wandering eyes.” 

Cullen frowned and scolded himself for letting his guard down. He could feel the flush now crawling to the tips of his ears. “So you’re saying you _weren’t_ also watching the two women dancing on the table? Or is that just commonplace in Tevinter?” he quipped back.

Dorian scoffed. “Hardly.” 

Cullen raised his eyebrows in challenge.

“If we were in Tevinter, they’d have been nude.”

Cullen groaned and pinched the bridge of his nose. The imagery that Dorian’s teasing statement evoked was less than appropriate. _Soft, tanned skin, silver waves cascading down her bare shoulders, looking at him with that impish gleam she always seemed to have behind her eyes…_

Cullen quickly pushed the inappropriate thoughts from his mind. He was certain now that even in the dim lighting of the tavern, Dorian could see the growing color in his cheeks.

Cullen pursed his lips. “Is there a point to this line of questioning, Dorian, or are you just trying to get a rise out of me?”

Dorian grinned. “It seems I already have, Commander. Perhaps you should remove your mantle; you look a bit flushed.” 

Cullen’s frown deepened. He’d played right into Dorian’s game. When it came to chess, Dorian was no match for him, but when it came to mind games…

“Alright, you’ve had your fun,” Cullen grunted. “I’m certain you must have other matters to attend.”

Dorian ignored the ex-Templar’s subtle invitation to leave. “She speaks very highly of you, you know.”

It didn’t take more than a moment for the words to leave Dorian’s mouth before Cullen betrayed himself once again by chancing a glance at the Inquisitor. In the span of his and Dorian’s banter, she had abandoned the table and was now conversing animatedly with Bull and his Chargers. 

Cullen tore his gaze away and idly tugged his gloves. “Then that is very kind. My goal is to serve the Inquisitor and this Inquisition to the full extent of my abilities.”

Dorian leaned closer and quirked a dark brow. “Would you like to know what she says?”

Cullen scoffed. “I’m positive that is absolutely none of my business.”

Dorian recoiled slightly, and a perplexed expression crossed his face. “If it’s about you, what part of it isn’t your business?” 

 

“Conversations spoken to _trusted_ friends, that I’m certain are meant to stay between them,” Cullen retorted. He gave the mage a chiding look.

Dorian opened his mouth to retort, but was quickly drowned out by a roar of cheering from the Inquisitor and the Chargers. In all the commotion, Cullen couldn't hear a word of what was being said, but he watched as the Inquisitor downed a small glass of Maker-knows-what, earning another roar of approval from the rambunctious group. 

He continued to watch as she chatted with Bull. Suddenly she turned to face him, and a smile stretched across her face as her eyes darted between him and Dorian.

She began to weave her way toward them, and Cullen sat up a bit straighter in his chair as she approached. She vaulted over the final table between them with a bold smile and casually rested her hip against Dorian’s shoulder.

“My ears are absolutely burning, Dorian. What sort of stories have you been telling the Commander about me?” Her eyes never left Cullen’s, and her smile was rife with mischief; clearly she’d noticed his poorly concealed attention.

Cullen dropped his sheepish gaze to the table, and Dorian wrinkled his nose. “Only that he should watch where he eats from now on. Maker knows what other tables your filthy feet have been on in this place,” he taunted.

“Some friend you are! You’re supposed to make me look good in front of my advisors!” The Inquisitor’s bright laughter made Cullen’s stomach flutter. He’d heard her laughter countless times and had yet to grow tired of it.

“I can assure you, Inquisitor, I don’t think any less of you than before,” Cullen said. He met her eyes for a brief moment before casting them down again. 

Dorian huffed. “Well, perhaps you should. I’ve seen firsthand where she traipses about.” He sat up straight, forcing the Inquisitor to shift to accommodate his sudden movement. “Perhaps we’ll continue our conversation over a game of chess sometime this week.” 

Cullen smirked. “Ready to lose again so soon?” he said. He rested his elbows on the table and smugly stared at the mage over the tips of his steepled fingers. 

“Don’t get cocky,” Dorian drawled. With a final dismissive wave, he left to join Bull and the Chargers, who were now taking bets on who would win their current arm wrestling lineup. 

There was a brief pause before the Inquisitor filled Dorian’s empty chair. She casually propped her legs up on the table, and Cullen allowed his bold gaze to follow the slender lines of her calves for a moment before her voice broke the silence.

“Whatever he said about me was all fibs.” She paused and smiled cheekily. “Unless of course it was something really fantastic. Then it was absolutely the truth.” 

Cullen chuckled. “Dorian didn’t say anything too incriminating, Inquisitor. So for now, I think you’re in the cl-”

“Piper.”

Cullen blinked a few times. “I-I beg your pardon?”

“Call me Piper.” 

Cullen studied her face. Her hazel eyes were lit with that ever-present impish spark, but also with something else. Something… hopeful? Cullen couldn’t quite place it. 

He cleared his throat. “I hardly think that would be appropriate...”

She gave him a coquettish smile and leaned closer. “Then don’t be appropriate.” 

Cullen gulped. The heat was rising to his cheeks, and he seemed to have lost his ability to find a cogent response. He scrambled for a suitable reply, and was actually relieved to be interrupted by yet another rise in volume in the already-noisy tavern. Maryden had started playing again, a loud and lively jig that was accompanied by the impromptu percussion of someone pounding on a tabletop. 

The Inquisitor’s legs flew off the table, and she jumped to her feet. Alarmed by her sudden movement, Cullen rose just as quickly from his chair with his hand on the hilt of his sword. He looked down to meet her gaze, and his cheeks grew even hotter.

The biggest grin he’d ever seen was plastered across the Inquisitor’s face. Her steady gaze was glimmering with a roguishness that instantly had his heart racing a few beats faster.

“Dance with me!” she exclaimed.

Cullen gaped at her in surprise, then glanced around the tavern in a near-panic. Other patrons were already beginning to dance to the sprightly song; clearly Piper wasn’t alone in her wish to dance.

“I, uh, I don’t dance,” he stammered. “Besides, Inquisitor, it really wouldn’t be appropriate-”

She groaned. “Please, Cullen, it’s a dance, not a marriage proposal.” 

His eyes widened at her casual use of his name. It flowed so easily off her tongue and it sounded so comfortable in his ears, and he immediately felt ashamed at the thought of her saying it again in a _much_ more personal setting. 

A tugging feeling around his neck dragged him from his thoughts. Cullen looked down to see the archer’s deft fingers clasping his mantle, and then she was dragging him into the cleared space where the other patrons were dancing. 

He stumbled slightly over his feet, caught off guard by her fingers in his fur and her determined stride. This little elven woman always seemed to catch him off guard, somehow. 

“Inquisitor, I really must protest-”

She glanced over her shoulder and gave him a playful grin. “Come on! I promise I won’t bite. Unless you want me to.”

The heat rose in Cullen’s cheeks, and he didn’t even have time to finish his protest before they were mixed among the other dancers. She was already placing his hand on her hip and taking his other hand in hers. 

“Just like this,” she said briskly. “Now follow my lead. I’m an excellent teacher.”

And she was. Despite his reluctance, the little elf easily manipulated him into a loose dance. To Cullen’s vast relief, there didn’t seem to be too many steps to this particular number. Piper easily guided him along, and he allowed himself to follow her lead, watching carefully for her cues when the next step was up.

She rose onto her toes, and then her lips were at his ear. A shiver ran down Cullen’s spine as she whispered the final instructions.

“Now spin me.” 

She guided his hands to her hips. Before he could balk at the familiarity of his hands on her petite body, before he could stop to think, Cullen lifted her into a spin in unison with the other dancing patrons and returned her lightly to her feet. 

The song drew to a merry close. Piper gave Cullen an exaggerated sweeping curtsey and a broad grin, and Cullen responded with a much more reserved bow of his own.

She jauntily cocked a hand on her hip. “You see?” she said. “That wasn’t so bad, was it?” 

He chuckled and rubbed a hand along the back of his neck. “No, I suppose not.” 

“Good,” she chirped. Cullen admired the brightness of her silver hair as she casually pulled the tousled waves over her shoulder. “You’re a quick learner. Not that I’m surprised. You didn’t get all those rippling muscles from just sitting around.” She smirked and slid a provocative look from his head to his toes.

Cullen was certain his face could not get any hotter than it already was, but even still he felt the flush climbing all the way up to his ears. Despite his embarrassment, he couldn’t help but smile. Dancing had never been a strong suit or an interest of his, but somehow, having Piper as his partner had made it infinitely more bearable. 

_Partner._ The loaded, meaningful word rang in his mind, and for the umpteenth time tonight, Cullen pushed the thoughts from his overactive imagination.

He met Piper’s eyes. “Inquisi- Piper. I… thank you for the dance.”

Piper’s long ears visibly perked up, and an even broader grin lit her face. “Anytime,” she said. “I mean that.” 

He gazed into her warm hazel eyes. Her expression was as cheeky as always, but they held that same hint of hope that he’d noticed before: a hint of something warm and inviting. As Cullen studied her lovely face, he could practically see the possibilities unfolding in her open smile.

She released a tinkling little laugh, and he jolted out of his fanciful thoughts as she squeezed his gloved hand. “Goodnight, Cullen,” she said. With one last brilliant smile, she flitted past him and out the tavern doors. 

Cullen released a breath, but the grin wouldn’t leave his face. Perhaps Piper was right. 

Perhaps he didn’t have to be appropriate _all_ the time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Follow [Schoute on Tumblr](http://schoute.tumblr.com/) for more Piper Lavellan antics and some gorgeous Cullavellan art! xo


	3. Cold

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A lovely little piece written by Schoute and beta'ed by queenofkadara!

Cullen stood stiffly by the campfire with his hand resting on the pommel of his sword. He hoped the gesture looked more casual than how he truly felt.

They had moved at a quick pace out of the wreckage of Haven, and trudging through the deep and incessant snow had chilled him to the bone. Shifting the fur of his mantle closer, he released a heavy sigh that the bitter cold rendered into a visible puff of melancholy.

Everyone had banded together to help the weaker, or those injured in the events that had transpired between the Inquisition and Corypheus. Despite the catastrophic nature of their retreat, the Inquisition had shown true camaraderie, placing any differences aside and uniting in a common goal: to survive. 

But the atmosphere of the camp was dampened. Cullen was certain the others could feel it too. The rest of the inner circle had found them easily enough, and with only minor injuries – a blessing by any measure. However, there was still one member of the Inquisition yet to be accounted for.

Piper.

As her name played in his mind, Cullen darted his eyes around the camp with a brief wash of anxiety that he'd said it out loud. Confirming that his thoughts about her had remained just that, his eyes returned to the dancing flames licking hungrily at the logs by his feet.

Varric, Dorian and Bull had met up with Cullen and Cassandra as they ushered people to safety. The lack of Piper's bold presence was painfully clear. Cullen had scanned their trio quickly, and as he was opening his mouth to ask the question nagging at his brain, Varric spoke.

"We, ah, couldn't find her." The dwarf’s brows were furrowed, and they all looked exhausted. "But if I know Rowdy, she’ll turn up."

Cullen was certain Varric's words were meant to serve as a comfort. But to whom? To him? Had his thoughts about her been that obvious? Clearing his throat, he looked to Cassandra. "I can lead a small team of my men to search the wreckage-" 

"No," Cassandra cut him off. "I truly hope that the Herald is alright, but… " She paused, and it seemed that she disliked saying the words as much as Cullen disliked hearing them. "But right now our goal should be to get the others to safety." 

Cassandra was right, of course. There was no denying that. It was their responsibility as the leaders to see that everyone had made it out of Haven and through the pass. But that didn't make it any easier to admit. 

Bull stepped forward and placed a hand on his shoulder. "Listen, Cullen. The Chargers and I could lend a hand in the search, as soon as things have settled down." 

Cullen nodded his acknowledgement to Bull. "Thank you. With the added manpower of the Chargers, we should be able to efficiently search the wreckage for survivors.” 

But only one face kept crossing his mind.

"If we are to have a chance – if _you _are to have a chance – let that thing hear you."__

____

Those had been his parting words to her. Piper's hazel eyes had softened as she looked up at him, and she'd pressed a warm callused hand to his face.

____

"Cullen, when have you ever known me to be quiet?"

____

He lifted his own gloved hand briefly to his cheek, remembering her touch. Her words were teasing and she wore her usual bold smile, but Cullen couldn't help the churning in his gut. They’d sent her into the heart of danger with only her closest companions while the rest of them turned tail to retreat. 

____

He kicked idly at the snow beneath his boots. As commander of the Inquisition, it should have been his responsibility to see that Piper and her team had the proper backup, but the attack had taken them all by surprise, and the sheer number of casualties had left them fumbling and blindsided. As a result, his recruits were stretched thin in their rescue efforts. 

____

The echoes of screams from Corypheus' destruction in Haven kept playing through Cullen’s mind over and over: a harsh reminder of his failure to protect. The promise he’d made to the Inquisition, and already he had failed.

____

His grip tightened around his pommel. If the Inquisition was to succeed in their attack against Corypheus, they needed to move forward. As long as their people still believed that there was a fight to be had, they still had a chance. By diving into the fray, Piper had given them that. It was because of her efforts that they’d been able to escape the devastating attack and set up camp. And if tonight was any indication of what they could achieve with a common goal, then perhaps there was hope yet.

____

But with the face of their operation missing… 

____

"Curly."

____

Cullen's head whipped over his shoulder as Varric approached him, and he could only hope he didn’t look as completely taken by surprise as he felt.

____

"Varric," Cullen responded, clearing his throat as the dwarf stood beside him. "How are you and your comrades holding up?" 

____

Truth be told, a conversation was the last thing Cullen wanted right now. The advisors had agreed that once dawn was upon them, Cullen and a handful of his recruits and the Chargers would try to backtrack toward Haven in search of any sign of survivors, and he was anxious to get moving.

____

But Varric was here now, and his low chuckle brought Cullen back to the present.

____

"Well," Varric started, "Dorian has already announced that he's ‘at the end of his limit’ with our southern charms. But we're holding up." 

____

A forced chuckle slipped through Cullen's lips. "Ah, yes. I believe I overheard he hailed from Tevinter. I can't imagine they have many snowstorms." 

____

He could feel Varric's eyes on him, which only encouraged him to gaze deeper into the fire. Varric had an uncanny ability to read people, and Cullen found it deeply unsettling. 

____

If there was one thing that Cullen truly despised, it was small talk. But when it came to Varric, small talk was never just that. Varric was always gauging the conversation, feeling out the other party. A talent amongst writers, perhaps, to steer a conversation in the exact direction they wanted it to. 

____

"We'll find her,” Varric said quietly.

____

Ah. There it was. Cullen chanced a glance at Varric, but was surprised to see that his gaze remained on the fire. 

____

Cullen coughed lightly to clear the lump that was forming in his throat as his thoughts returned to Piper. The logical part of his brain was telling him to prepare for the worst, but the other part remembered the bright spark of mischief behind her eyes the day she'd come to him on the training fields and started stubbornly asking him a variety of probing questions that Cullen had been eager to answer, much to his own surprise. That part of his brain was telling him not to give up. Not just yet.

____

He turned his attention to the growing darkness and looked deeper into the mountain pass. "It is my hope that with our efforts, anyone not accounted for will be found," he answered noncommittally. It was the truth, after all. Cullen wanted to rescue as many survivors as possible during his expedition with the Chargers tomorrow morning. The Inquisition was nothing without its people, after all, and it was Cullen’s duty to protect as many of their people as possible.

____

But it was equally true that the face that kept rising to the forefront of his mind was _hers_ : that scarred and delicate Dalish face that had recently started drifting through his mind at night, and which he fervently hoped he would see safe and smiling and alive in the morning. 

____

"Mmm," Varric murmured in response. As always, he seemed to know more than he was letting on.

____

Cullen looked at Varric once more, and this time was met with his returning gaze. Cullen’s gloved fingers flexed anxiously with a soft groan of leather. He was suddenly feeling a bit exposed under Varric's eyes. 

____

“She didn’t earn her nickname for nothing, Cullen,” Varric said with a small smile. “And I’m choosing to believe that she gave Corypheus a helluva time before getting out of there.” He chuckled. “And not just because it’ll make some great content for my next book.” 

____

Cullen let a hesitant smile tug at his lips. If there was anyone who could face Corypheus and a dragon head-on and live to tell about it (over a tankard of ale, if Cullen was being truthful), it was ‘Rowdy’ Piper Lavellan. 

____

“I was under the impression she’d earned that nickname after challenging Bull to a drinking game?” Cullen asked. Word traveled fast around the barracks, and Cullen was never quite certain what was fact or fiction, but Piper had made herself well-known amongst the recruits for the antics she stirred up in the tavern.

____

Varric snorted. “No, no, you’ve got it all wrong, Curly.” He folded his arms and turned to face Cullen. “She earned it from that mission we took in the Hinterlands. I don’t think I’ve ever seen a bear run that fast.”

____

Cullen’s eyebrows shot up. Now this was a story that must have been left out of a report. He was certain he would have remembered hearing about that. He’d always assumed Varric embellished Piper’s reports somewhat when he was transcribing them, but the more he learned about her, the more he began to wonder if there was any embellishment at all. 

____

Cullen’s grip relaxed slightly on his pommel. Perhaps this conversation with Varric was a more welcome distraction than he’d thought. “This I have to hear,” he said with a slight smile. “Though I did notice we had quite a few bear pelts to donate to our requisitions officers. Would this have anything to do with that?”

____

Varric opened his mouth to respond, but a crunch of snow drew their attention to the darkness of the valley. 

____

Cullen grabbed the hilt of his sword and took a few cautious steps forward. Then his eyes caught sight of the eerie green glow.

____

“I – Maker’s breath,” he rasped. It was Piper. She had managed to crawl her way through the snowy valley and was slowly making her way toward their camp.

____

Cullen’s breath hitched with disbelief. A split second later, he flew into a sprint. “There! It’s her!” he boomed, ensuring that his voice could carry over the howling winds. Moments later, Cassandra and Varric were at his heels.

____

Cassandra’s voice rang out behind him. “Thank the Maker!” 

____

Piper took another unsteady step forward, and Cullen quickly caught her before she could fall.

____

“There, I’ve got you,” he whispered. Her usual bronze skin had taken on a cooler hue with the biting cold, and Cullen made quick work of stripping off his mantle, wrapping it securely around her before lifting her shivering body into his arms. 

____

Piper’s teeth were chattering, and he couldn’t help but notice the blue of her lips. Her forehead brushed lightly against his neck as she settled against his shoulder, and her other hand feebly gripped the fabric of his vest.

____

“Cullen,” she murmured. Her words were soft in comparison to the usual boisterous tones she spoke in, and her throat raspy from the cold. 

____

He looked down into her half-lidded hazel eyes, and a burst of fondness and relief washed over him. 

____

“Yes, Herald?” he said, slipping back into his sense of propriety despite the nagging at the back of his mind that was urging him to call her by name.

____

She gazed up at him silently as she trembled in his arms. She looked so cold, and the serious tilt of her dark brows was such a contrast from her usual spirited demeanor that he found himself waiting with bated breath for her next words.

____

Piper drew a deep, slow breath, then spoke on a sigh. “It’s fucking cold,” she said. She snuggled her head more closely against his neck, and mere moments later, her chest was rising and falling in the slow and steady rhythm of sleep. 

____

Cullen held Piper closer against his chest as they made the trek back to their makeshift camp. Despite all odds, she had managed to find them. 

____

A small, genuine smile pulled at his lips as he thought of how stubbornly she must have insisted to herself to keep going - to keep pushing forward despite the frigid howling wind and her frostbitten bare feet. Piper may not believe herself to be the Herald of Andraste, but she was certainly something special. Of that, Cullen was positive.

____

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You can find Schoute [here on Tumblr](https://schoute.tumblr.com/) for more wonderful art!


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